


Are you done yet?

by autisticblueteam



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Autistic Character, F/F, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 00:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6633493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticblueteam/pseuds/autisticblueteam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connie always had to clean her knives at 2200 hours. South knows she has to, and she's not going to stop her, but that doesn't mean she's going to be patient about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are you done yet?

**Author's Note:**

> Done for a prompt on tumblr again! This time, it was for 'accidentally falling asleep together'.

“Are you _done_ yet?”

Connie felt a heavy weight thump against her back, hair tickling the bare skin of her neck, and arms encircling her waist. She didn’t take her eyes away from her knives, though, even when the weight thumped against her back a second time and emitted a whine.

“ _Connnnie_.”

“I’m clearly not done yet, South,” Connie replied, carefully cleaning the blade of one of her knives. It was twenty two hundred hours, ship time, and the only light in the room was that of the dim lightbulb above her bed, “I still have a few knives to go.”

“You didn’t even _use_ them today,” South huffed, nuzzling between her shoulder blades, “Why the fuck have you still gotta clean them?”

“South,” Was her only reply, followed by a glance over her shoulder at the other woman, “I’ll be done when I’m done, okay?”

South huffed again, “You’re lucky you’re fucking cute. Like, really fucking cute. Have I told you that today? You’re fucking cute.”

“You have now.”

Connie put down the knife she was holding, picking up the next one and beginning the cleaning process all over again. South whined, squeezing her around the waist and plopping her chin onto her shoulder.

“Connie. I wanna sleep.”

“Then sleep.”

“I wanna sleep with _you_. Like, actual sleep− wait, fuck, no,” South said, a grin spreading across her face, “I wanna _sleep with you_ , then I wanna _sleep_ with you.”

Connie didn’t respond, simply humming under her breath as she continued to clean her blade. South pouted, a spectacular sight that Connie did feel rather blessed to be able to witness, and buried her face against her neck.

“Connnnie. I wanna have sex.”

“I gathered that.”

“Do you?”

“I might do, when I’m finished cleaning my knives.”

South went quiet, and for a moment Connie thought she was satisfied with the answer she’d received. In hindsight, that was a rather foolish assumption.

“If I get my boobs out, will you stop cleaning your knives?”

Connie’s face flushed a pale red, and a laugh escaped her, “South!”

The weight of South’s head on her back was suddenly gone, followed by the sound of material shifting. Connie didn’t turn around for a long moment, trying to keep up her resolve and continue working on her knives, but as the shuffling stopped and there was only silence she found it hard to resist looking. Finally she gave in, turning to look over her shoulder.

South was still fully dressed, and sporting a grin.

“Made ya look.”

“What happened to getting your boobs out?”

“Pfft, you gotta give me an answer first, babe,” South said with a snort, folding her arms, “I’m a _classy_ lady. I don’t get my tits out for no fucking return.”

“Of course you are. How could I forget?” Connie said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. South’s grin grew wider, only to fall when Connie turned back to her knives.

“You’re way too stubborn, you know that?” She whined, slumping with her head rested atop Connie’s. Connie wasn’t distracted for a moment, even as South’s fingers ghosted under her tank top, finishing cleaning the current knife and picking up the next, “Way. Too. Stubborn.”

“Well I guess it’s lucky you’re just as stubborn, isn’t it?” Connie said, smiling up at her. South chuckled.

“Heh. True.”

There was a brief silence, Connie working through her next knife relatively quickly as South simply sat with her chin rested on top of her head and her arms around her waist. When she picked up the next knife she was down to two, and she briefly wondered if South would stay quiet until she was done this time, but…

“If you hurry up I’ll do that thing you like.”

“South.”

“What? Just saying.”

“South, you’ll do ‘that thing’ whether I hurry up or not. Believe me,” She said, a light smirk on her lips. She could practically hear South grin.

“Fuck, Connie. You are _not_ making me any less fucking impatient, y’know that?” South said, squeezing her mid-section, “Like, seriously.”

“I’ve given up at this point, honestly. And no, that doesn’t mean I’m not finishing my last knife,” She gave South a look as she placed down the knife and picked up the final one. South huffed, squeezing her again, but otherwise stayed quiet.

Connie hummed under her breath as she cleaned, but the room was otherwise silent once again. South’s warmth was a constant presence against her back, her firm chest pressed close and her strong arms wrapped around her in a familiar embrace. Connie figured that South had finally given in and was being patient, that is, until she put down her final knife and tried to sit up straight. Tried being the operative word; South’s weight simply wouldn’t budge.

“South?”

And then she heard a snore.

South was _asleep_.

Connie groaned, “Oh for… _Really_?”

She moved her knives out of the way, carefully leaning to stash them under her bed whilst trying not to be crushed by South’s weight. Then, with equal care, she sat back up and eased South’s arms from around her waist and coaxed her sleeping form to lay on the bed. By then she couldn’t help but smile an amused little smile, looking at her fondly as she lay there asleep and calmer than you’d ever see her when she was awake.

“You truly are hopeless,” She said, mostly to herself, as she sat against the wall at the head of the bed. She laid South’s head on her torso, laughing quietly when her arms wrapped around her smaller girlfriend instinctively, and laced her fingers into her hair. She was warm, familiar, and her hair tickled her skin, “I’m lucky you love me.”

South mumbled something indistinct in her sleep, and Connie smiled, kissing the top of her head. Then she grabbed her data-pad and began to work until, a couple of hours later, she dosed off with South rested on her chest and her arms draped around her shoulders.


End file.
